


Fear No More

by sneetchstar



Category: Still Star-Crossed (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 19:11:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11363799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sneetchstar/pseuds/sneetchstar
Summary: Benvolio is trying; Rosaline is still hesitant





	Fear No More

“Do you truly find me so repellant?”

In the weeks – months – since their forced betrothal and marriage, Benvolio has slowly grown to actually _like_ his unwilling bride. A great deal more than he ever would have thought.

However, they have been married more than a month and Rosaline still remains cold and prickly. Most of the time. Every once in a great while she will peek over her high walls and allow him a glimpse of the woman she keeps protected behind them.

He passed a flower vendor on his way home from his Uncle’s house, and was moved to buy a bouquet of daisies for her.

He could have bought roses. But he once overheard her profess a preference for daisies, so that is what he purchased.

His gift was met with a muttered “Thank you,” as she swept away to put them in a vase.

He deflated then, wondering if she would ever warm to him.

Once Benvolio discovered how much in common he has with Rosaline and that he did not actually hate her, he became resolved to try to make this ridiculous marriage work. To make the best of the situation in which they found themselves.

Unfortunately, he is about three steps ahead of his wife.

He followed her to the kitchen, where he found her scowling down at the daisies.

“I am sorry my gift offends you so,” he had said, lingering uncertainly in the doorway.

Her eyes snap to him, surprised at being caught. “It does not offend me, my lord,” she replied.

So formal. So distant.

“But neither does it please you,” he ventured, taking an uneasy step forward.

“It… it should,” she allowed, her brow furrowing. She took a step back. He stopped.

“Capulet…”

And here they stand, facing each other, each struggling with their own thoughts.

“Do you truly find me so repellant?” Benvolio finally asks, his whole body wilting, his normally confident posture slumping into something dejected and insecure.

That is what breaks Rosaline. “I…” she starts, stops, bites her lip, then says, “I know you’re trying. I can see you are. And… I appreciate the effort…”

He reins in his impatience, wanting to yell “Then why don’t you make an effort as well?” at her, but instinctively knowing now is not the time. Instead, he prompts, “But…?”

“But…” she repeats, then suddenly turns away and he knows she is hiding her tears from him.

“Rosaline,” he softly says, slowly moving towards her again. He can see her shoulders shaking just slightly with her effort to not let him see her cry.

Months of keeping herself carefully composed crumbles at the sound of her name spoken so tenderly by a man she had been raised to see as her enemy. "I’m frightened.” She whispers the admission

Benvolio stops cold. This is not what he expected at all. Rosaline Capulet, the bravest, boldest, most fiery woman he has ever met, is _frightened?_ “What of?” he asks, trying to keep the shock out of his voice.

“I do not hate you,” she says by way of an answer.

“That is… good news,” he carefully replies. “I do not hate you either,” he adds. “In fact, I have discovered I quite like you.”

She wheels around so suddenly it makes him jump. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem! The last time I gave my heart to a man… I was certain he would hold it dear forever. Instead, he only held it for a time. He cherished it until he was forced to leave it behind. Then he asked for it once more… but ’twas only a matter of hours before he tore it out, stomped on it, and, finally, offered it to my enemy!” she exclaims, her voice rising as the words come pouring out of her. “How am I to know you will not also mistreat it should I share it with you?”

Benvolio is stunned. This is the closest Rosaline has ever come to saying anything about what transpired between her and Escalus, and it may be the only details he ever gets on their affair. Not that he really wants them. He gathers his wits, knowing he must say something. He steps closer to her, and gently places his hands on her shoulders. When she doesn’t shrink away, he says, “I made a vow before God – and you – to be true to you. I did not take those words lightly, Wife. Have I visited the taverns or brothels once since we have been wed?” She shakes her head, pressing her lips together as she processes her husband’s words. “I pray you, hear these words, Wife: We may not have had a choice in the person we married, but we do have a choice in how we conduct ourselves in this marriage. And I choose to be a good husband to you. If you would but allow it.” He waits, looking into her eyes, noting how her tears leave shining trails on the soft, dark skin of her cheeks. Before he realizes what he’s doing, he reaches up and gently wipes away one of these wet trails. “You have my most solemn promise that I will not mistreat your heart if you share it with me,” he quietly adds.

“I do not know how to be a wife,” Rosaline says after a moment, his words touching her more than she expected.

He shrugs. “Nor do I know how to be a husband,” he lightly replies.

“I…” she stops, sighing heavily. “I was going to be a nun,” she says, and he knows that wasn’t what she was planning on saying.

He can’t help the chuckle that escapes, and he leans forward and kisses her forehead. “I know, fair Rosaline. We will find our way as husband and wife together then. We have no one to guide us, so we shall proceed in the manner that best suits. I will stumble; you will catch me.”

“I will stumble.”

“And I will catch you.”

He bends and bravely kisses her cheek. “Do you trust me?” he quietly asks, his breath softly puffing against her cheek. He knows it is a dangerous question, but he also knows that they must first have trust before they can have anything else.

She looks up at him with her large brown eyes, and whispers, “You are the only person I trust apart from my sister.”

“Truly?” he blurts, shocked. She nods, and he is overcome with the urge to kiss her.

So he does, sealing his lips over hers with an exuberance that surprises them both.

It is the first time he has voluntarily kissed her. And three seconds later, he pulls away, an apology falling from the lips with which he was just kissing her. “Forgive me, I…” He tries to retreat further, but he finds himself held fast, Rosaline’s fingers clutching his doublet.

“Oh,” she softly exclaims, releasing him. He doesn’t move.

“Have we a truce then, Capulet?” he asks, his voice still soft.

“I should hope we have the beginning of a… a friendship. At least,” she counters.

He smiles. “You can never simply agree, can you?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of him.

She places a hand on his forearm. “Montague, you would not know how to conduct yourself if I were to suddenly turn agreeable,” she says.

“True,” he agrees. “So… friends, then?”

“Yes.”

He angles his head. “It is a start,” he allows, uncrossing his arms. She drops her hand and he swiftly catches it, gently pulling her from the kitchen. “Come, Wife. The hour grows late.”

She follows without a word, but he can very nearly hear her eyes rolling behind him as she follows him into the corridor.

“You find me fair?” Rosaline suddenly asks, as if his earlier words, spoken in almost an offhanded way, have just penetrated her brain.

Benvolio stops walking. “What?”

“You called me ‘fair Rosaline’ just moments ago,” she explains.

To her surprise he neither denies nor refutes her claim. “You are better than fair by far,” he admits. He gazes at her face a second longer, than continues to their room. “Thou art more lovely and more temperate than a summer’s day, do you not recall?” he tosses over his shoulder.

She snorts a laugh just as they walk into their room. “I very much doubt I am more temperate,” she replies, and is rewarded with a truly delighted, surprised laugh from her husband.

Benvolio walks towards Rosaline and decides to risk it. He slowly leans down, this time giving her enough warning to refuse him should she wish to.

She doesn’t.

He kisses her more tenderly this time; a wordless vow.

That night, he sleeps in their bed, lying next to his wife, for the first time.

**Author's Note:**

> Thought it was time I did something other than smut for this fandom...


End file.
